


Reunited

by allaboutme7



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Irondad, Ironsad, My phone kept correcting Tony to Toby so if it says Toby at any point, Oh my gosh, Unbeta-ed, blame autocorrect, i meant, its THERE, sorry - Freeform, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 15:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allaboutme7/pseuds/allaboutme7
Summary: “There was a sharp ringing in his ears, but it was slowly fading, as was the dust and wind.He finally cracked his eyes open, wincing as debris got into them.The dust faded, the mini wind-storm over. And that is when Tony finally saw it.Peter.”[ONE-SHOT]Considered a sequel to “He was just a kid...my kid,” but can be read as a stand-alone.





	Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! This story idea popped ito my head and was willed to write it! Please leave comments and kudos, I really appreciate them! <3

Tony reached out a shaky hand, grabbing the glowing, orange stone up from the ground, feeling the rush of power the stone gave him. 

 

He kneeled down on the dust desert-like ground. What planet he was on, he couldn’t remember. Only one thought was circling his mind: he was finally going to get Peter back. 

 

It had been two years since the snap, a year and a half since the Avengers got together, and only just now had they managed to get the soul stone. 

 

It had been hard, for sure. Non stop working and searching had taken quite a toll, he had been close to giving up at times. To stop, to give up. To end it all. 

 

In the end he never had, because if there was a  _ chance  _ he could reunite with Peter, bring him back, let him have an actual  _ future _ , he wasn’t going to throw that all away because he was tired of it all. Of living. 

 

The past three months had been the hardest. They had been so close so many times, had followed the trail, being  _ right there _ to getting the stone, and without fail, it would always vanish to a place unknown. 

 

But  _ now? _ They had finally gotten it. The soul stone - the stone that grants the user control over all life in the universe. They had it. 

 

The others lingered behind him, maybe a couple yards away. They knew this was important to him. Don’t get him wrong, they had all lost loved ones. But he was the only one who had lost his  _ kid _ , and they thankfully realized the importance that this was to him. 

 

Tony bowed his head, still kneeling, and squeezed the stone between his hand, closing his eyes, concentrating on  _ willing  _ molecules upon molecules to form back together. He willed all the world back to the way it was - all the people who had died from Thanos’ snap were forming, piece by piece. Molecule by molecule. Dust by dust.

 

It took more effort than Tony had expected. Thanos had made it easy when using the other stones, but maybe the soul stone was just harder to use.

 

He felt the stone pulse into his palm, power radiating, sheer energy coming off of it in waves. He felt it  _ burning  _ into his palm, it was sure to at least leave a scar. If he had to guess, the soul stone had never been used in such a large way, saving thousands,  _ millions, _ of people, completely rebuilding those bodies and placing the appropriate souls into each. 

 

The wind whipped around him, tousling his hair. It formed a thick, heavy dust cloud around him that completely obscured his vision. 

 

Tony cried out as another pulse of power exploded into his hand, and outward. It was like a bomb had gone off, his sight exploded into orange and white, his hearing went out. He felt his hand  _ burn _ , and felt a few blisters from on it. 

 

His body tipped forward, limp and exhausted. He panted heavily, still feeling the power in the air and in his hand, even if he couldn’t feel the stone anymore. 

 

There was a sharp ringing in his ears, but it was slowly fading, as was the dust and wind. 

 

He finally cracked his eyes open, wincing as debris got into them. 

 

The dust faded, the mini wind-storm over. And  _ that  _ is when Tony finally saw it. 

 

_ Peter. _

 

Granted, he was with a whole lot of other people, but he only had his eyes of Peter. 

 

_ Peter. _ His pseudo son, the one who he had be trying to get back all this time. 

 

He saw Peter stand there, visibly confused. He must have no clue what was going on, and Tony’s heart ached. 

 

He pushed himself up until he was back into a kneeling position, avoiding using his burned hand too much.

 

That was the moment Peter’s eyes roamed over and spotted Tony, and their eyes met. 

 

Tony knee he looked like a mess: a full grown beard, unkempt hair, bloodshot eyes that looked dead (as he's been told, at least), he was covered in dirt and grime, along with sweat, and now his hand was in tatters, too.

 

Tony didn’t know  _ exactly _ how it happened, but one second he and Peter were staring each other down, and the next he couldn’t breathe and something warm was running down his face. Someone was also holding him. 

 

He tried to gasp in a breath but all he could do was let out another sob, clinging onto the person who he  _ knew  _ was Peter. He could feel it, in his heart and in his hand, weirdly.

 

“Pete-“ he gasped again, “God, you’re back. Peter. Peter. Peter, I missed you.  _ I missed you _ ,” ego be damned, Tony had been waiting for this moment for two years, he wasn’t going to act like nothing happened. It had been the worst two years of his  _ life _ , being without Peter. The guilt just made it ten times worse.

 

“Mr Stark, it’s okay. I’m fine,” and  _ god, _ Tony was crying even harder. He hadn’t heard Peter’s voice that wasn’t a recording in so long, and to hear it, so close and so real. To  _ feel  _ the vibration of Peter’s chest when he had spoken, it was a completely different thing. 

 

“It’s not,  _ you’re  _ not. You’ve been gone, for two years,” Tony lifted his head again and stared Peter in his face. He looked just like he did before, before everything had happened. 

 

“Two years,” he squeaked, before clearing his throat, “doesn’t matter. I’m here  _ now _ .” 

 

Tony cupped Peter’s face with his hands, feeling the warmth radiating which further helped him realize this was really real. He had never been able to touch hallucinations, after all.

 

“I - I know I’m not much for feelings stuff, but a lot has changed over these past years,” he whispered, “I never got to tell you so many things I kept hidden and as soon as, as - as you were gone, I realized I never told you and you would never be able to hear it. But now that you’re back, I’m not going to waste that opportunity again.” 

 

“Peter, you’re like a son to me. No - in my mind, you  _ are  _ my son. And I love you as one,” he confessed, before giving a small kiss into Peter’s forehead. 

 

He saw the moment the message had hit - and Peter’s eyes teared up instantly. He had a brief spout of panic, wondering if he had said or done something wrong, but that was all washed away when Peter buried his head into his neck and hugged him full-on. 

 

“I-I’ve always th-thought as you as the d-dad I’ve never had,” he hiccuped into Tony’s neck, breaking his heart just a little bit more.

 

“Shhhh,” Tony soothed, cradling Peter’s head. He nuzzled into his head, breathing in and momentarily feeling,  _ living _ in the moment, he had Peter in his arms and Tony would be damn sure to never let him leave. Not for at least ten or more years, at least.

 

He felt a tap on his shoulder, interrupting.

 

“Stark?” Tony turned around, seeing Steve’s face, who had an awkward expression on his face. The others, now including some of the ex-dead allies, were gathered around behind him, all looking away. Huh, he had forgotten that they were there.

 

He blinked, “yeah?” He asked, voice kind of scratchy.

 

“We...should probably leave for earth now. With everyone suddenly being alive again, I imagine we’ll need to be there to at least explain things,” Steve says, “oh, and you probably need your hand to get checked out. That doesn’t look good,” he adds, gesturing to Tony’s beaten up and oddly still glowing hand. 

 

“Yeah, right. Yeah,” he mumbles. He nudges Peter, who gets the message, and reluctantly detaches himself from Tony’s neck and stands up. 

 

“Come here,” Toby opens his arms and they start walking, with Peter leaning into his side, towards the ship they had used to travel. 

 

“Mr Stark?” Pete whispers, “what happened to your hand?” 

 

The stone had completely vanished, Tony now noticed. His hand was still glowing, however, and Tony reached a conclusion he didn’t know how to feel about. 

 

“The Stone must have absorbed into my hand somehow,” he mused out loud. “No wonder it hurts so bad.”

 

A wounded noise came from Peter’s throat. “It hurts?” Tony looked over to Peter’s worried face and smiled lightly.

 

“Yeah, but it was worth it to get you and everyone else back,” he kissed the top of Peter’s head again.

 

“You’re too kind, Mr Stark,” Pete murmured back, sounding embarrassed. 

 

“Please,” he scoffed, “I’m never nice. I’m a cold, cold man. And for the love of god, call me Tony. I think I at least deserve that,” he turned towards Peter and gave the best puppy eyes he could muster. So what, he was a little out of practice. 

 

“Sure thing, Mr Tony,” the traitor replied cheekily.

 

“I’ll disown you,” Tony looked over at Peter and couldn’t resist smiling. 

 

“No, you won’t,” Peter replied, dancing on the edge of danger. 

 

No,” he agreed, “I won’t,” he couldn’t at this point, if he was honest. Peter meant too much to Tony, and if he lost him again he didn’t know what he would do. 

 

“Just call me Tony though, I’m begging you.” 

 

Peter pouted and started groaning, “But Mr Tony is  _ such _ a good name. Why don’t you appreciate anything I call you,” and dramatically started to wipe his eye of nonexistent tears. 

 

“Oh I’m so sorry,” Tony rolled his eyes, “Jerk.” 

 

“Bitch,” Peter instantly said before a small scream left his throat and he slammed a hand on his mouth. They both stopped walking and paused where they were. Peter hurriedly started spouting apologies. 

 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to call you a bitch- I mean, I didn’t even mean to curse! And I just did again, fuck. I mean fudge! Please don’t listen to anything I’m saying right now,” He babbled. 

 

Tony couldn’t hold it back anymore and burst out into laughter, clutching Peter’s arms to stay up straight and not keel over.

 

The others, mainly the ones who had stayed alive for the entire Infinity Stones War, immediately stopped short at seeing him laugh. No fault of their own, to be fair, as he hadn’t laughed a single time since they had regrouped to save the universe.

 

“You,” Tony panted, trying to catch his breath, but ended up giggling like a schoolgirl every few seconds, “are so weird. I love you.” He hugged him again for a few seconds before detaching himself reluctantly. 

 

“Thanks?” Peter didn’t know if he meant that as an insult or compliment. 

 

Toby was still grinning widely as they boarded the ship. His face muscles obviously weren’t used to being stretched so much, and it kind of hurt, but he couldn’t stop. Didn’t really wasn’t to, either. 

 

The others, who had apparently not overcome their shock, entered the ship close to three minutes later. When they entered, they got a view of Tony and Peter, still chatting and laughing every few seconds. Peter was sat facing Tony, leaning into his side and his legs thrown over Tony’s, head tucked onto his shoulder as well. 

 

It was strangely domestic, something they had never even  _ dreamed _ of seeing from Tony. 

 

“So, uh,” Steve fumbled for a second before gaining his composure again, “Do you want to introduce us?” He gestured towards the kid that was practically sitting in his lap. 

 

Toby flashed a smile at them, looking the happiest they had ever seen. 

 

“This,” he clapped a hand onto Peter’s shoulder, “is my son.” 


End file.
